


Matching Set

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Lingerie, M/M, Marking, Married Couple, Married Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Purring Keith (Voltron), Scenting, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: For their wedding night, Shiro has a (lacy) surprise for Keith. Turns out, Keith has the same surprise for his new husband, too.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 257
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	Matching Set

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reyvest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyvest/gifts).



> Happy [sheithlentines](https://twitter.com/mysheithlentine) to [Rey](https://twitter.com/reyvest_art)! 
> 
> You had such a fantastic list full of so many excellent prompts, but ultimately I couldn't resist writing your request for established sheith giving one another a special gift (or, specifically for both of them wearing lingerie). Also tried to give you some Galra-y Keith, praise kink, and teasing. ♥ 
> 
> Recently, though, you posted [this amazing pic of sheith on their wedding night](https://twitter.com/reyvest_art/status/1348678351838445568) and asked for requests for wedding night fics. So... I figured I'd just write you one, haha! This fic is based off that pic (which everyone should check out if you haven't already)!
> 
> For those curious, Shiro's lingerie set is based off [this set](https://twitter.com/Bluepinkpeachy/status/1346508100925333507) and Keith's is based off [this set.](https://twitter.com/Bluepinkpeachy/status/1317924356081786882)
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Thank you for being so wonderful and for your fantastic list! ♥ 
> 
> Thank you to [Meg](https://twitter.com/kedawen) for the beta read!

Shiro and Keith’s wedding is a quiet ceremony, exactly as they both want it. Just family and friends, a setting sun behind them, flowers in Keith’s hair. Shiro’s smile brighter than any sun, his hands gentle where they hold Keith’s. Keith beaming back at him, never letting go of Shiro’s hands except for when he slips his ring onto Shiro’s finger. When they kiss to seal the ceremony, it feels like the beginning of the rest of their lives— together.

Standing before their loved ones, Keith wonders if they’ll both cry, their eyes turning glassy and reflecting the setting sun, their first kiss punctuated by the emergence of stars above them. 

But no, they don’t cry then. It isn’t until they’re walking back towards their hoverbike together, the one that they’ll drive to their reception, that Keith looks up at _his husband_ and thinks, _I really do get forever with you._

The tears nearly take him by surprise, welling up and slipping down his cheeks, leaving his eyelashes tacky. It takes Shiro only a moment to notice, turning to gather Keith into his arms and smothering his face in his hair. He holds Keith tight, rocking with him there beneath the desert stars. Keith’s fingers curl tight against his husband’s back. He clings, but Shiro clings back, too. 

It isn’t about the ceremony, about marrying Shiro, that makes the tears come— there’s nothing about this day that feels different from how it was the day before, the weeks before, the years before. Keith’s heart has always been so buoyant, orbiting around Shiro. The wedding itself was no different for how they show their devotion to one another. Keith has always been prepared to die and kill for Shiro, even long before they were together. Every day with Shiro has been Keith’s vow to him. 

No, the tears now are a simple joy— infinite, encompassing joy. The joy of holding Shiro in his arms, the joy of kissing him, the joy of Shiro’s big hands wrapped around his waist. There’s the joy of feeling Shiro’s smile, of knowing every curve of his body and hush of his breath. The joy of holding his heart, of knowing every side of him, good and bad. Of trusting each other with everything they are. There’s the joy of opening his eyes to find Shiro already looking at him, sweet and serene and _his husband._

Shiro smiles down at him, his eyes soft. “It’s okay, Keith.” 

And it is okay. Shiro understands him completely. His best friend. The love of his life. The person who knows him best, who matches him in every way— the two of them on the same wavelength. 

Keith’s hand lifts, touching Shiro’s face, cupping his cheek. His smile still feels wobbly, but it takes only a few blinks of his eyes before the tears clear entirely.

“You’re mine,” Keith murmurs. 

“Yeah, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to kiss Shiro again after that. They lose time, lingering there before they finally part long enough to drive to their reception. The fact that they make it through their reception is nothing short of a miracle in Keith’s eyes, considering that all he wants to do now is drag Shiro to the nearest corner and lay worship to him, to spell out his devotion and vows in something other than words. 

He still has a wedding gift to give to Shiro, after all. 

Still, it’s a fun party, one that’s still carrying on even once they finally slip away from it to return to their room. Keith indulges in the joy of it— of holding Shiro, of having Shiro, of being with Shiro for the rest of their days. He sighs happily when Shiro crowds him up against their door, both of them fumbling with the key but too distracted with kissing to do much of anything else. 

Keith sighs at the feeling of Shiro pressed against him, big and encompassing. He loops one arm around Shiro’s neck, dragging him down closer and biting at his lip, licking into his mouth if only to steal Shiro’s breathless gasp. He loves the solid line of Shiro’s body against his, the perfect way they fit together. 

“Keith,” Shiro breathes when they break for air, foreheads pressed together. Keith smiles at him, feeling bubbly like the champagne they drank together, his entire body glowing beneath the touch of Shiro’s palms on his hips, his nose bumping against his. The sound of his name on Shiro’s lips sings through him. 

“Mm,” Keith hums as he bites at Shiro’s lip again, growling low in his throat. 

They kiss sloppily like that until Keith finally manages to tuck his fingers into Shiro’s coat pocket and find their key. With some more fumbling, he gets the door open and drags Shiro in with him. 

“Keith,” Shiro sighs into the kiss. “Keith, look—” 

Keith growls again, content instead to bite and lick at Shiro’s mouth, pawing absently at his chest with the kind of impatience he’s never been able to _focus_ away. Not when Shiro’s standing here before him, touching him, responding to him, going breathless because of Keith. Eagerness lances through him, expectation and excitement to give Shiro everything he wants, everything he deserves. 

“Keith,” Shiro says again, chuckling. 

With great hesitancy, Keith finally pulls back from the kiss. He blinks up at Shiro, not quite pouting, but the spirit of it must be in his expression because Shiro chuckles, then gestures with his chin where Keith should look. 

Keith turns. Their bed is covered in rose petals. There are candles, still unlit, scattered about on every flat surface of their room. It looks like every romantic cliché Keith’s ever heard about wedding nights— and he can’t help the small huff of a laugh that bubbles from his chest. 

He turns back to look at Shiro, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “When’d you set this up?” 

Shiro just grins at him, taking his hand. Instead of answering, he simply says, “You deserve romance, Keith.” 

Keith’s cheeks flush with warmth and he doesn’t try to fight his little smile. Shiro lifts his hand to kiss it before he steps away to start lighting the candles. One by one, the room sparks into the soft glow of golden firelight, making everything feel softer, more intimate. There’s something delicate and sweet about watching Shiro grasp the match, striking each one and lighting the wicks. 

Truthfully, Keith could watch Shiro do any mundane task and find it beautiful. 

Keith bites his lip, trying to muffle his smile. “I don’t need this kind of stuff. You know that.”

Shiro winks at him over his shoulder, flicking his wrist so the match extinguishes with a lingering tendril of smoke. “Maybe I like it, though.” 

Keith knows this about Shiro. He likes to be romantic, so candlelight on their wedding night is hardly a surprise. Keith knows how much Shiro likes to indulge him ( _to treat you the way you deserve, baby_ ), but Keith also suspects that it’s just something that Shiro enjoys: how small actions like this can spell out a love and affection deeper than Keith can fathom sometimes. Keith thinks it’s sappy nonsense, but it’s also nice to be so beloved by someone. By Shiro. 

Keith watches Shiro finish lighting the candles before he moves to drape against him, groping his ass. Shiro squawks in surprised delight as Keith slumps his full weight against him. 

Shiro laughs. “Keith—” 

Humming, Keith nuzzles at the back of Shiro’s neck, summoning up his purr so that it reverberates through his entire body and against Shiro’s. The sensation makes Shiro shudder, and Keith’s smugness only grows, his husky purr rattling as he bites and nibbles at the back of Shiro’s neck. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, strained. Keith’s only a little obsessed with all the ways his name sounds on Shiro’s lips. 

Shiro is still making a valiant attempt at lighting candles despite Keith’s distraction— and there’s something strangely adorable about that. Shiro always was overly earnest. 

And he’s all Keith’s. 

This is Keith’s husband. Keith doesn’t think he’ll ever get over that realization, how every time the thought comes to him, it dawns over him anew. His husband. _His._ Forever. 

The mere thought of it kicks his purr louder, pleasure and happiness sinking into the sound of it. He watches Shiro light the candles and keeps nuzzling at the back of his neck. Shiro moves methodically, his big fingers pinching the small match, flamed to life. The little fire’s light flickers off Shiro’s wedding band. 

Keith’s eyes trace his movements, the way the light plays along Shiro’s ring. 

“God, baby,” Shiro says as he finishes the last candle, pressing back against Keith. “I forget how loud your purr can get.” 

Keith doesn’t bother apologizing. He knows Shiro loves it— knows how the purr signals his happiness. He leans back enough for Shiro to turn in his arms, smiling up at him when their eyes meet. 

He tips up to meet Shiro in a kiss he knows is coming, sighing out as Shiro wraps his arms around him, lifting him up just a little. Keith’s toes skim the ground and Keith slumps against Shiro, grateful for his husband’s sure hold on him. His fingers curl in the satin-smoothness of Shiro’s lapels and hang on. 

“Am I properly romanced enough that I can get you naked now?” Keith teases, his voice graveled-out with desire and his purr. He watches Shiro’s eyes darken, his smile softening on his kiss-damp lips. 

“Soon, baby.” 

Keith grumbles at the answer. 

Shiro is so handsome, it’s nearly painful. Keith’s fingers curl tighter in his suit lapels. Keith happens to like Shiro in a black suit with the red trim, all dressed up and looking decadent, otherwise he’d absolutely rip the clothes right off him. 

Shiro grins at Keith’s pout— he’s sure he’s pouting— and leans down to pepper kisses up Keith’s jaw, humming alongside Keith’s thrumming purr. It makes Keith shiver, clinging to Shiro and tipping his head to the side to make space for him, always welcomed here. 

“My impatient husband,” Shiro teases, his words a low murmur. And hearing Shiro call him that feels like a stab right to the gut. He might go half-hard just from that, shuddering in Shiro’s arms with the softest, hitching breath. 

“ _Shiro…_ ”

“I have a wedding gift for you,” Shiro murmurs in his ear. Just the gentle sigh of his breath against Keith is enough to make him shiver again, hyperaware and hypersensitive to every move Shiro makes. It feels good to be in his arms, to be so close to him, to feel his breath, to feel the lingering trail of kisses on his skin. 

Once, Keith dismissed this sensitivity to the heightened Galra instincts— increased hearing, increased sight, increased smells. Though he knows that’s a factor, he also knows just as well that it’s simply _Shiro._ Keith has always gravitated towards Shiro. He always will.

Keith turns his head, nosing at Shiro’s jaw, letting the sharp prick of his fangs graze along his jaw. “Yeah?”

He chirps a surprised gasp when Shiro scoops him up without a word, carrying him— finally— to the bed. Keith laughs, sun-bright and punched out of him, nuzzling against Shiro’s neck and up to his ear, biting down with sharpened teeth. He loves to feel the shudder that runs through Shiro. All because of Keith. 

“Maybe I have something for you, too,” Keith says as Shiro places him down on the bed. He hooks his arms around Shiro’s neck and yanks him down so he loses his footing, sprawling out over Keith. It makes the rose petals flutter around them, disturbed from their picturesque sprinkling. 

Keith catches Shiro’s mouth in a filthy kiss, his entire body singing with the need to have Shiro closer, closer, closer still—

Keith makes quick work of Shiro’s shirt, tugging on it so it comes untucked from his trousers. He bites at Shiro’s lip with a soft, possessive growl, slinging one leg around Shiro’s thighs to keep him pinned down against him. 

“Fuck, baby,” Shiro sighs when they break their kiss. “You’re so—” 

Keith doesn’t get to find out what Shiro thinks of him, focused instead on biting and licking down Shiro’s neck. He’s not usually one for scenting, but he follows the urge when it strikes him. He mouths against Shiro’s pulse point, lapping his tongue in slow kitten licks. He covers Shiro in his scent, marking him as his. He purrs low in his chest, possessiveness and satisfaction twisting and coiling in his gut. He’s aroused and only gets harder as he covers Shiro in his scent. By the end of the night, every inch of Shiro’s skin will smell and taste like Keith. 

His scenting is never something humans can pick up on, and Keith’s hybrid nature means that most Galra can’t really smell it, either. But that doesn’t matter to Keith. He knows that Shiro is his. He knows that he’s Shiro’s, too. It’s more the act of doing this, of being closer to Shiro, of feeling Shiro, of making sure Shiro _knows_ who he belongs to. It’s the fact that Shiro seems to understand that glint in Keith’s eyes and bows his body for him, unveils his skin for Keith to bite— trusting Keith to take what he needs. 

Shiro tilts his head back now, exposing the full column of his throat. He’s a delicious feast and Keith lets out another soft chirp— one of his more embarrassing sounds, really— and mouths down over his neck, gripping tight to Shiro’s shoulders to anchor him there against him. His purr mixes with a pleased trill, every sound he makes betraying his utter happiness. 

That’s okay. He trusts his happiness to Shiro. Shiro always takes good care of him. 

Shiro’s hand rests against Keith’s chest, just above his heart, and Keith’s infinitely aware of the feeling of him, the weight of him, the ring on his finger. It all feels good, so good— enough so that Keith has to fight back against the urge to cry again. So much has led to this moment, really. 

They’ve been together for so long now. At the end of the day, this is only another day in their infinity together. But it’s the symbolism of it, the notion of it— Shiro is here with him. Keith is here with Shiro. They’re here, together, and that’s never going to change. 

Satisfied that Shiro is sufficiently covered in his scent, Keith leans back to blink up at him. Shiro smiles back, his cheeks flushed a perfect pink and his smile boyish and charming. It makes Keith’s heart do that squirmy thing in his chest, the way Shiro somehow manages to make him feel like a teenager in love, overwhelmed and glowing. 

“You didn’t bite me harder,” Shiro says, his eyes twinkling. 

Keith eyes his neck. Then, wordlessly, he leans in and bites down hard at his favorite spot, sucking and nibbling a mark into his skin. He feels Shiro shudder and his purr growls louder in triumph. Shiro is his mate, his husband, _his._ And the entire universe knows it, too. 

“That’s better,” Shiro murmurs. 

When he draws back again, it’s to lift his hand, touching Shiro’s face. His palm cups over his cheek and Shiro immediately leans into the touch, his expression softening. 

He whispers, “Hi, Keith.” 

Keith’s thumb swipes along Shiro’s cheekbone, fingers lightly curled along his jawline. “Hi.” He licks his lips, kiss-swollen and smiling, and watches Shiro’s eyes track the movement. “You said you had a gift for me?”

“Mmmhm,” Shiro hums, turning his head to press a kiss to the center of Keith’s palm. It makes Keith’s purr hitch and Shiro’s smile widens. He makes no move to draw back and presumably bring Keith a gift, though. 

Keith takes the moment of stillness to shove Shiro’s jacket off his shoulders. It slips off him easily, assisted by a flick of Shiro’s arm so that it falls forgotten to the floor. Undressing Shiro is one of Keith’s favorite activities— he loves to reveal him piece by piece, to press kisses to every inch of available skin, to run his fingers down over his body, tracing the scars. 

If Keith had his way, Shiro would be naked most of the time. But Keith likes being able to peel his clothes off, too. 

Keith admires him now, his shirt stretched obscenely over his chest, his body poised above Keith. He doesn’t protest when Keith sits up to get his hands on him better, working at the buttons of Shiro’s shirt. 

If anything, Shiro’s smile widens. “Going to open your gift, huh?” 

Keith snorts, warmth flooding through him. “You’ve always been my gift.” 

“I—” Shiro snaps his mouth shut and then laughs, his entire face turning red. He gets like that when Keith compliments him, every time. “I definitely set myself up for that one,” he says quietly, his hands finding Keith’s hips and pulling him into his lap. It takes some rearranging of limbs, but Keith goes, straddling over Shiro’s thighs as he thumbs open the top button of his shirt. Shiro smiles at him, watching him. He says quietly, “I hope you’ll like it.” 

Keith’s about to say something sappy— he always likes, loves, enjoys, adores Shiro— but he pauses as he works open the next two buttons of Shiro’s shirt, opening him up. Keith spies the soft curl of white lace kissing into the dip of Shiro’s clavicle and pauses. 

“Oh,” Keith says, hushed, his fingers curling tight around Shiro’s collar, wrinkling the starched fabric.

Shiro says nothing as Keith tugs it open enough to spy the loop of fabric at the back of his neck, the straps dipping beneath the shirt. Lingerie. His husband is wearing lingerie beneath his wedding suit. 

Keith’s purr hitches louder and then stutters to a stop when he starts laughing instead, the sound delighted and overwhelmed and pouring out of him before he can swallow it back down. 

“What?” Shiro asks, grinning up at him. His cheeks are that cute rose-pink that Keith loves so dearly. He doesn’t look embarrassed by the laughter, at least, only curious. His hands touch over Keith’s hips, holding him close. 

Keith ducks in to kiss him, grabbing Shiro’s shirt and ripping it open fully. Buttons fly everywhere, scattering across the bed and the floor, but it just makes Shiro gasp a delighted breath, squirming to help Keith pull the fabric off him entirely. He’s smooth as silk beneath Keith, flowing up to meet him in a deep kiss as he squirms his way out of his pants, leaving him nearly bare beneath Keith. 

Keith jerks back to admire him soon after. It’s a simple piece of lingerie— more strap than coverage, the stamp of lace across Shiro’s chest only accenting how beautiful he is, the flex of his muscles, the slip of his scars over his skin. He’s the most stunning man Keith’s ever known, will ever know, and he looks so pleased with himself as Keith’s eyes sweep over him. 

Keith’s fingers trace the lines of the lingerie, the criss-cross of white over his stomach and down to accent his cock, already hardening. The centerpiece is the lace swirling over his chest and along his collarbones, delicate and fleeting over his skin, a string of beads settled in the valley between his pecs. It stretches over his chest, accenting his muscles, the lace woven into swirls and a subtle flower motif. It’s beautiful— lace and silk ribbons, a pristine white over his golden skin. 

“Fuck, Shiro.” 

“Thought I’d make myself pretty for you,” Shiro says, teasing. He looks overly smug at Keith’s reaction. He knows exactly what he does to Keith, in the end— and just how much Keith likes to see him in something delicate only to rip it off him.

Keith laughs again, shaking his head. 

“Damn…” Keith says, letting his eyes drink Shiro in, his styled hair knocked loose in a little curl over his forehead, his cheeks flushed, his body wrapped up in lace. He looks into Shiro’s eyes, grinning with too-sharp teeth. “We had the same idea.” 

It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do, Shiro barks a curious laugh. “Oh— really?” 

“Undress me and find out,” Keith says and laughs at just how enthusiastically Shiro reaches for him, working open the buttons of his shirt without another word of encouragement. Keith’s chest rumbles with his pleased purr. 

Shiro works him open, pressing a kiss to his throat when he loosens his collar and works open the buttons. He draws back enough to get a look at Keith as he undresses him, plucking away his clothes. Keith lifts onto his knees long enough to squirm out of his pants, kicking them away quickly so he can seat himself in Shiro’s lap— naked except for his own set of lingerie. 

Where Shiro’s is all white and a stamp of lace on his chest, Keith’s is a mixture of black and red, laced flowers hugging over his hip and shoulder, like a garden grove come to life. The black straps curling over his body are thicker, hugging his body and accenting his slim waist. 

He knows he looks good like this. He spent a long time finding a set he knew would look good. Judging from the way Shiro’s eyes linger over him, the way his husband drinks him in, Keith knows he’s done well. He preens, lifting his hands to gently unweave the flowers from his hair, but also so he can pose his body in a luxurious curve— all for Shiro to admire him. 

He can’t help the soft mewl he sighs out when Shiro’s hands touch his waist, then slide down to trace the straps over his stomach, following it down to his cock and thighs. The flowers bloom over his hip and Keith shivers pleasantly when Shiro’s thumb follows the swirl of one flower’s blossom. 

“Baby—” 

Keith trembles. On any other night with his husband, he might be embarrassed by how responsive he is to such a little touch. But he can’t help it. He smiles, feeling beautiful and resplendent, and leans into Shiro’s hands on him. 

“We match,” Keith says with a smile. He loves the idea of it. How they’re always on the same wavelength, no matter the circumstances. 

Shiro’s answering dimpling smile makes him look so young, his eyes glowing as he lingers on Keith. Only Keith. His hands on him are gentle. “We do,” he murmurs. “Keith, you’re so beautiful.” 

Keith doesn’t let Shiro say anything more, folding down against him and catching his mouth in a deep kiss, the purr reverberating in his chest where he presses up against him. Shiro groans, his mouth opening to Keith. He’s there to welcome Keith, as he always does. 

Keith shivers at the way Shiro touches him, tracing over his skin and lace, his body thrumming with desire and love and _too much, not enough._ He rocks his hips forward, squirming in Shiro’s lap until he finds the right angle, his cock sliding against Shiro’s, the kiss of lace between them. 

He can feel the sharp inhale of Shiro’s breath when he feels Keith’s cock press against him. Keith wastes no time, whimpering his delight and rolling his hips forward until he starts rutting against Shiro. 

He seeks that friction and Shiro is there to meet him, his big hands falling to grasp Keith’s bare ass framed by black straps. He squeezes, dragging Keith in closer until they’re both writhing together, groaning into the kiss. Keith can barely hear it over his own purr, distracted by the taste of Shiro’s lips, the velvety slide of their cocks together, Shiro’s big hands palming his ass, fingers slipping into the cleft to tease at his hole alongside one black strap. 

“Shiro,” he pants and Shiro moans again, rocking harder against him. 

“You’re teasing me,” Shiro says between kisses, rocking his hips forward only for Keith to rock away. He chases Keith, seeking that friction, and groans when he squeezes Keith’s ass hard in his hands, dragging him in closer. 

“A little,” Keith admits when he breaks their kiss. The words themselves are nearly swallowed up by his pleased purr. 

He knows what he must look like as he grins at Shiro— all glint and fang, his eyes bleeding yellow with pleasure. He looks half-wild whenever he’s with Shiro like this, the two of them wrapped up in each other. 

Shiro drops reverent kisses over Keith’s shoulder, following the trail of lace flowers. He presses open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone, following the lingerie down over his pec, kissing one hardened nipple until Keith whimpers, then following the black strap back up to his other shoulder. He nuzzles at Keith’s neck, pressing his own bites there— never hard enough to mark him the way Keith marks him, but it’s the quiet sort of possessiveness that makes Keith’s body sing. 

Keith indulges Shiro in showering him with such attention, but just as he feels his cock go aching hard, he pushes Shiro back. Shiro goes willingly, humming his question as Keith presses him back against the luscious pillows. 

Keith doesn’t voice his intentions, trusting Shiro to understand as Keith bites his neck, then drags his lips down, trailing over Shiro’s skin. He presses a kiss against each lace flower, then mouths over the beads hanging between Shiro’s pecs. He mouths and bites over Shiro’s chest, dragging his teeth over a dusky nipple just to watch Shiro shudder. 

He growls his pleasure at making Shiro feel good, lips trailing over his skin until he finds the white ribbon wrapped around his body. He follows the direction down, licking over his skin until it meets the one from the other side, a perfect cross just below Shiro’s belly button.

Keith smiles as he palms over Shiro’s cock, hard against his stomach, the ruddy head beading with precome. Shiro sucks in a sharp breath at the touch, his hands lifting to touch Keith’s hair. His fingers tangle quickly, holding him tight. 

There are times when Shiro will grab Keith and drag his mouth down onto his cock, nearly choking him with it. Other times, he’ll simply rest his heavy palms against Keith’s head, content to let Keith mark his own pathway. 

Tonight, it seems the middle ground, Shiro twisting his fingers up in Keith’s hair and tugging, as if to encourage but not to direct. Keith licks one little kitten lick over Shiro’s hard cock just to hear his sharp inhale. He grins, his eyes glinting as he looks back up at his husband. 

“Like that?” Keith asks him.

He hears Shiro bite back a whimper, his smile lopsided and sweet as he bites down on his bottom lip. He’s the perfect picture of practiced coyness, his eyes promising something far sweeter. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro whispers and Keith flushes at the earnest response, just how kind Shiro is to him. 

Keith purrs gently as he presses a few kisses to Shiro’s belly, stroking slowly over his cock for the tease of it. He follows the trails of silk for as far as he can reach without moving Shiro’s sprawled position. 

He mouths at the head of Shiro’s cock, teasing without swallowing around him. He nuzzles at him, letting his cock slip against his cheek, smearing precome along his cheekbone. Shiro chokes, a barely contained moan rippling out of him. It makes Keith grin. 

He wants to make a mess of himself. He kisses the tip of Shiro’s cock, smearing his lips with precome, opening his mouth to drag his tongue down the full length of him, to get him sloppy and wet with Keith. Shiro holds tight to his hair, his grip unrelenting, but still doesn’t force Keith where he wants him. He can tell from the tremble of Shiro’s hips just how desperately he wants to fuck up into Keith’s mouth. 

He mouths over Shiro’s skin, licking at the base of his cock as his thumb teases at his slit, then lifting to press a kiss to the spot where the two ribbons cross over beneath his belly button. Shiro whimpers, the softest whine for more without actually asking for it. 

Keith can take pity on him. “You’re so pretty,” he teases, licking at the crown of his cock, his eyes sparkling. “Dressed up so pretty for me. Want me to take care of you?” 

Shiro makes a sound like he’s been punched. “ _Oh._ ” 

Keith seizes on the response. “I’ll take care of you,” he says, nearly cooing it out. “I’ll be good for you.” 

“ _Keith,_ ” Shiro whines, his cock twitching in Keith’s hand. 

And Keith can take pity on him. In the end, he can do little else but obey Shiro. His husband. His perfect husband. He squirms in close and curls his mouth around Shiro’s cock, suckling. He laves his tongue along the underside of his husband’s thick cock, tracing over the flared crown. 

He looks up at Shiro, watching his face as he works. Shiro’s far bigger than a mouthful, but Keith can be patient when it comes to this, when it comes to working his way down the length of him, his hand stroking along the velvet-smoothness he can’t reach with his lips and tongue. He likes to watch the shift come over Shiro’s face, how he gets lost in his pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Shiro whispers, his fingers tight in Keith’s hair. “Fuck, baby— you look so good. Always so good for me.” 

Keith whines low in his throat at the praise, the words zinging through him as he mouths over Shiro’s cock. 

He knows what he must look like: the Galra-yellow of his eyes, his lips stretched and red over his cock, making a mess of his chin with spit and precome, his fingers curled delicately around Shiro’s thick cock, his face flushing plummy-red. 

Shiro is a sight before him, too, his chest heaving, the little beads at the center of his chest shaking with each breath. He’s a picture of hard and soft, his cock perfect against Keith’s tongue, his body straining against the accenting curve of the ribbons and lace. He’s the most beautiful man Keith has ever known. He wants to get lost just looking at him, the silver of his hair, the white of his lace, the perfect grey of his eyes. His hands so tight and sure in Keith’s hair. 

They match. They’ve always matched. 

Keith moans as he sinks deeper onto Shiro’s cock, swallowing around him. His jaw aches in the perfect way servicing Shiro like this always makes him ache. His own cock strains hard against his stomach, desperate for touch, desperate to get Shiro off. He wants to fuck Shiro. He wants to be fucked by Shiro. He wants to come apart on Shiro’s fingers, his tongue, his kiss, his touch. He wants to get lost holding him, rocking helplessly against him until neither of them can stand the sensitivity of it all. 

Keith swallows around Shiro, sliding his tongue. He takes his time with it, bobbing his head in slow slides of his tongue. His free hand falls to Shiro’s thigh, trembling beneath his palm, the glint of his wedding ring fueling him onward. 

He slides his hand slowly, cupping Shiro’s hip, fingertips slipping beneath some of the white straps hugging his body, and guides Shiro up to fuck into his mouth. Shiro makes a sound, pitched-up and pleased, his fingers twisted tight in Keith’s hair. 

And then Keith starts to purr again, a low rumble in his chest that makes Shiro muffle a shout and fuck up hard into Keith’s mouth, hard enough that he nearly chokes. He doesn’t stop purring though, letting Shiro sink into the vibrating pleasure of it, his mouth loose around his cock, his tongue curling over his skin. He can tell he’s a mess, his cheeks flushed, his lips shiny with Shiro’s precome. 

He loves this feeling most of all, of pinning Shiro down and worshiping him, possessive and safe in Shiro’s hands. Shiro tugs on his hair, gasping. “Fuck, yes. Keith— Keith, you’re so fucking good—” 

It’s the praise, the light flickering of his ring, the feeling of Shiro’s cock perfect down his throat, that makes Keith’s purr kick up louder. He sinks forward, swallowing around him, taking Shiro in deeper and deeper. 

By the time Shiro’s cock is buried fully into Keith’s mouth, his mouth held open and his body vibrating with his purr, he nearly wants to come just from this, just on bringing Shiro so close to the edge. He can hear the praise tumbling past Shiro’s lips, filthy and sweet at once, and Keith grips tight to him, trembling. He whimpers around his purr, swallowing down Shiro’s cock. 

“Baby,” Shiro pants. “Keith—” 

Keith purrs, eyes falling shut as he swallows around Shiro’s cock, bobbing his head as best he can with him buried so deep. His claws dig against Shiro’s hips, plucking at the pretty white ribbons, trying to coax him to move, to fuck Keith harder. 

He looks so pretty like this, really— splayed out beneath Keith, brought so close to coming because of Keith. His chest is still heaving when Keith opens his eyes to look up at him, his flush running all the way down his chest, making the white lace stand out against his chest. He’s rubbing slow circles with his thumbs over Keith’s scalp, he realizes, and it makes Keith’s purr hitch and tumble up his throat. 

“Gonna come, Keith,” Shiro says and he sounds like he’s punched-out, winded and barely holding it together. Keith can see it in all the ways Shiro holds himself, trembling all over, his lips parted and swollen from biting down so hard on his bottom lip. 

Keith feels triumphant. He keens quietly, the soft trill chirping out of him despite his full mouth. He hollows his cheeks and suckles hard, milking his lips and tongue and mouth over Shiro’s cock. 

He backs off to breathe when Shiro tugs harder on his hair, yanking him away. Keith mewls quietly again, panting, his face an absolute mess. He nuzzles forward, rubbing his cheek against Shiro’s cock— slick and wet, making a mess of his face further. He smiles up at Shiro, his eyes dark and his purr too loud. He presses sloppy kiss after kiss to Shiro’s cock, licking and nuzzling up the full length of him. 

He gets his mouth around Shiro’s cockhead just in time for his husband to come, arching off the bed and stuttering his hips forward with a shout of Keith’s name. Keith drinks him down diligently, purring happily as he strokes over him. He’s nearly mindless with it, possessive in his desire to make Shiro feel good, to smell like Keith, for Keith to drink down his come with each delighted gulp. He doesn’t waste a single drop, squirming against the bed, his own cock rutting against the blanket in some vain attempt at friction. 

“Fuck,” Shiro moans. “Come _here._ ” 

He yanks Keith off his cock by his hair and then pulls him up, kissing him in a sloppy, desperate kiss that leaves them both breathless. Keith whimpers happily, squirming against Shiro’s body, his cock slotting into the vee of Shiro’s hip and fucking hard against him. His entire body trembles, overwhelmed with pleasure at having given Shiro pleasure. 

Shiro’s hands roam over his sensitive body, tracing over the lines of the lingerie and palming at his ass, squeezing and pulling him open, his fingers teasing at him in all the ways Keith loves but isn’t enough. Keith whimpers hard, biting down on Shiro’s mouth before licking into his mouth, mewling quietly. 

He ruts his hips forward, dragging his body against Shiro’s. The lingerie nearly goes askew, the lace flowers kissing against Shiro’s skin. Shiro holds him close, though, diligent in the ways he undoes Keith. It’s almost an unbearable tease to feel Shiro’s fingers tracing the lines of his lingerie but not touching his cock. 

“Shiro,” he moans. 

Shiro’s hand squeezes between them, touching over Keith’s heaving stomach, playing with the straps that wrap around his small waist. He tugs on one playfully and it smacks back into place against Keith’s belly button. 

“Beautiful Keith,” Shiro whispers against his lips, the sound muffled around Keith’s insistent tongue. 

Unsatisfied with Shiro’s insistent patience, Keith attacks his neck next, marking him up again. He already smells like Keith there, but Keith takes his time nibbling against this neck anyway, working his way down to his perfect shoulders and clavicle, licking and sucking and biting. 

“Go on,” Shiro whispers in his ear. “Take what you want, sweetheart.” 

Keith growls, pawing at Shiro until they’re rolled over onto their sides, sprawled out on the bed. A cloud of rose petals lift and fall with them and Keith’s sure some have gotten caught in his hair or press against his side. He doesn’t care. The room is dim now with the night sinking in, just the candlelight to guide them. On their sides together, Keith flings one leg around Shiro’s hips, inching closer just as Shiro lifts his hips, cradling Keith in his lap.

It's a perfect angle, one with them all tangled up in each other. Keith loves these moments best, the way they’re so entangled they can’t possibly come undone. It feels good, to think for a moment that there’s no separation between them, no space where Shiro exists and Keith doesn’t. 

Shiro can take longer to get hard again after coming, unlike Keith. But that’s alright. Keith takes it as a personal challenge. He’s so keyed up.

He blinks at Shiro, whimpering. “ _Shiro._ ” 

Keith rocks forward and whines again, flinging his arms around Shiro’s neck to hold him close and kiss him hard, his tongue dragging across Shiro’s bottom lip before he opens to him. He swallows every sound Shiro makes, each gasp and whimper and plea of Keith’s half-spoken name. 

“You feel so—” Shiro manages before Keith growls and sucks Shiro’s tongue into his mouth, silencing him. 

They rock together, seeking the friction and pleasure of their bodies and nothing more. Keith’s body shifts and bows, following every movement Shiro makes, too. Shiro’s hands run over him, tracing the straps hugging his sides and over his back, tugging him in closer. His hands cup Keith’s ass, squeezing and spreading him open until Keith is trembling. He rocks his hips up, his cock sliding up against Keith’s, and there’s the scratch of lace against their skin, the slide of their bodies together. 

Shiro’s hands trace every inch of Keith’s body, as if he needs any such roadmap to know the way to Keith’s pleasure. Shiro knows every inch of him, knows him sightless and soundless. One hand tangles tight in Keith’s hair, cradling the back of his skull, and the other traces over his leg, nearly all the way down to his ankle for how tangled up they are. 

Somehow, it’s those simple touches that drive Keith nearly over the edge, shuddering out with a pleading gasp against Shiro’s mouth. He can feel Shiro hardening against him, drawn in either by Keith’s rocking or the sounds he makes. 

“Please—” Keith manages before Shiro hums and sucks on his bottom lip, rocking with more purpose. There’s the streak of slicking precome against their stomachs as they rut together, Shiro’s cock thickening up again. 

“I’ve got you,” Shiro manages, voice shaky and husked out. He presses sloppy kisses over Keith’s jaw, nuzzling his way down. He can’t scent Keith the way Keith does him, but it’s the action that makes Keith go utterly boneless. 

“Shiro—”

“You’re so good, Keith,” Shiro murmurs when he presses a kiss to his ear. They keep moving together, finding their rhythm, and it feels good, nearly blissful for the way it sings through Keith. “You always feel so good, so perfect for me—” 

Shiro’s praise hits Keith low in his gut. He shudders, letting out another soft chirping sound around his purr, his back arching as Shiro pets his hands over him. His cock twitches, rocking against Shiro’s cock. 

“Yeah,” Keith manages, shaky, his arms tightening around Shiro’s neck as he pushes in closer against him. They’re pressed chest to chest, just the shine of their skin and the lingerie between them, the hanging bead on Shiro’s chest pressing an imprint against Keith’s. 

Keith ducks his head, biting down hard on Shiro’s neck, deep enough that he’s sure to leave another mark. It makes Shiro suck in a sharp breath, shuddering out. Keith imagines plucking up his lingerie to bite into his skin, to lay the lace back down to cover up each place Keith’s marked him. He’d unwrap Shiro like that, revealing each bite mark inch by inch. 

“So good, Keith,” Shiro says, nearly babbling in his pleasure, just as keyed up as Keith. “So good, baby, so perfect—” 

Keith growls his approval, biting and licking his way to Shiro’s shoulders, mouthing at the strap there before digging his fangs in against the meat of his shoulder, never deep enough to break skin but to send the zing of pleasure down his spine. He can feel Shiro shuddering. 

He pulls back enough to look at Shiro again, rocking hard against him, their eyes meeting. Keith’s fingers play with the loose, damp strands of Shiro’s silver hair. His eyes track the movement, catching on the glint of his ring shining in the candlelight. 

He’s arrested by the look of it for a moment, stilling long enough just to study his hand. He feels only a little ridiculous, but mostly just absurdly happy, when he sticks his hand out so he can admire the ring in this context. 

Shiro shifts, watching his movements. Keith sees the moment he sees the ring, too, reminded of its existence, of Keith’s reaction to it. Shiro’s smile is a wobbly thing, his face flushed and his body heaving with breath. His hands touching Keith turn gentler still, cradling him. 

They still together, an unspoken desire passing between them. It feels quiet, almost peaceful, as both of them look at Keith’s hand, at the ring glinting there. It’s such a little thing and yet— 

“Husband,” Keith whispers, testing the word out. 

Shiro’s breath hitches, and when Keith turns back to look at him, his eyes look nearly glassy in the dark of their room. He shifts against Keith, his leg lifting closer, pressing one thick thigh against Keith’s hip. 

Shiro’s voice is whisper-soft. “Yeah, Keith.” 

Keith lowers his hand, his focus solely on Shiro now. He tips forward so that their foreheads press together, the only space between them barely a breath’s width. 

Keith breathes in slowly. “My husband.” 

“I am,” Shiro agrees. “Always will be.” 

Keith takes another breath at that, closing his eyes against the feelings that swell in his chest at the words, as the reality crests over him again. It’s like a wave crashing over him, lifting him clean off his feet. He never wants to stop being overwhelmed with joy at the thought of it— Shiro is here, his husband. His husband. 

He squirms closer, pressing his body up against Shiro’s. In so many ways he feels engulfed by Shiro, held by Shiro, even when he knows he could throw him down easily, the stronger of the two of them. But Shiro’s hold on him is always gentle, always cradling, always welcomed. 

Shiro’s hand reaches between them to curl around Keith’s cock. It’s the feeling of their bodies singing together, of Shiro’s sure hand around him, the gliding kiss of a gold ring against his skin, that finally makes Keith shudder apart, coming with a sharp cry of Shiro’s name. He arches into it, his body shuddering out as he comes across Shiro’s fingers and heaving belly, the two of them rutting together. 

It feels good, sparking pleasure pulsing through Keith’s body, and he clings to Shiro, kissing him filthily. Shiro groans in response, swallowing Keith’s satisfied purr. 

Shiro makes no move to chase him, letting Keith ride his pleasure out, rutting up into the tight circle of his fist. Keith clings to Shiro, gasping and whining through his orgasm until he remembers to open his eyes again, breathless and satisfied. Shiro just grins at him, boyish and sweet. 

Fuck, but Keith loves him so much. He touches his face and kisses him again, whimpering as the aftershocks of the orgasm settle over him, leaving him oversensitive and overwhelmed. Never enough to pull away from the perfect cradle of Shiro’s body, but enough that every touch is a blissful torture. 

“You— what about you?” Keith asks once he catches his breath. His hand traces over Shiro’s body, touching the perfect line of his arm, along his side. He follows the lines of the straps on his body, using them to guide his touches. His fingertips trace over the defined expanse of his abs. 

“In a moment,” Shiro murmurs, nuzzling gently at his jaw. “Just want to hold you.” 

It’s sappy and absurd. Keith can feel how hard Shiro is, his cock leaking at the tip. But Shiro holds still, seemingly content for Keith to just slide his hand over him, touching every inch of him. He shivers when Keith’s fingertips find the chest piece of the lingerie, tracing the design woven into the delicate fabric. 

He can feel Shiro doing the same to him, tracing the flowers trailing off his shoulder. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro says. He smiles, his eyes unbearably soft. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” 

Keith shakes his head, blushing, his purr stuttering in embarrassment. He curls his fingers absently around the white lace, thumb swiping across one dark nipple just to make Shiro shiver, so thrummed up from pleasure. 

“I’m yours,” Keith says, a low murmur of agreement. Shiro smells like him— Keith’s scenting and his come on his body. He grabs Shiro’s hand still slick with Keith’s release and sucks on his fingers, cleaning him off with slow swipes of his tongue.

It makes Shiro shudder, biting his lip. His other hand traces the lace flowers on Keith’s shoulder and his fingertips press down against his skin, something warm and possessive in the touch, like he’s debating teasing Keith more. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers, strained and overwhelmed. He folds forward, pulling his fingers from Keith’s mouth so that he can kiss him instead, undoubtedly tasting Keith on his tongue. 

Even kissing borders on too much in the aftermath of his orgasm, but Keith can hardly say no. He shudders, shifting to wrap his leg around Shiro’s hips, heel digging into the small of his back. He can feel the kiss of more lace there, wrapping Shiro up like a gift. 

“Baby,” Shiro says again, more strained this time as Keith starts rocking his body against Shiro, letting his cock slide along the straps of his lingerie in the vee of his hip. It takes little encouragement to get Shiro rolling into the feeling of it, chasing his release. 

Keith runs his hands over him, gripping him tight. He knows he’ll leave marks that way, too, his nails kissing down Shiro’s back as they rock together. He’ll cover Shiro in all his marks and scent— never a doubt, ever, that Shiro is his. 

They’ll be like this forever, he thinks. The thought threatens to overwhelm, but it’s only love that swells through him. He kisses over Shiro, letting his husband fuck against him. It feels good to feel all the ways Shiro shifts and moves, to know all the ways that Shiro finds pleasure. 

“Come on,” Keith pants when he can feel Shiro getting close again. 

Shiro groans, shuddering out when Keith touches him, his fingers curling around the ribbons on his hips and yanking him in closer, shifting and fucking against Keith, scattering rose petals all around them. 

Keith purrs loudly when Shiro comes, feeling the spill of his come across his lingerie, making a mess of him. It feels good to be marked by him, to feel every ripple of pleasure that shudders through Shiro. 

They refuse to move as Shiro shudders through his orgasm, neither of them willing to untangle from each other. They stay like that, splayed out on a bed of rose petals and soft sheets, their clothes ripped and discarded on the floor around them, the room flickering with the warm glow of candlelight. 

And Keith’s never been happier. He’s exhausted from the day in the best way, overwhelmed with love and joy, knowing that this is only the beginning, that this is only the first of so many more nights together, as husbands. They’re here, together, a perfect match. 

When Shiro gulps down enough air to have a sense of himself, he smiles at Keith, his hand cupping his face, thumb tracing the scar on his cheek. Keith smiles at him, sappy and overfull with love, and leans into the touch. 

This time, there’s no mistaking the glassy glow to Shiro’s eyes. 

“I’m yours,” Keith says before Shiro can speak it. “I’m your husband.” 

The kiss is a sweet one, just the soft hush of their breath between them, pressed so tightly together that they feel like one body. 

“I love you,” Shiro murmurs against his lips, his smile unmistakable. “So much, Keith.” 

“If you really loved me,” Keith says as the moment settles between them, his eyes sparkling. “You’d let me rip that lace right off you.” 

Shiro barks a laugh, the sound punching out of him. And then he winks. “Why do you think I bought the flimsiest thing I could find?” 

And really, there’s nothing better than that. Keith laughs, hands falling onto Shiro’s body, and grins at the satisfying sound of ripping lace. They’ll match again soon enough, he thinks, as Shiro’s big hands fall to his hips again, pulling him down against him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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